


The Stranger the Better

by kazul9



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Consentacles, God Katsuki Yuuri, Human Sacrifice, M/M, Magic, Mortal Victor Nikiforov, Mutual Pining, Nobody dies though it's FINE, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Science Fiction, Tentacles, Virgin Sacrifice, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25775194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazul9/pseuds/kazul9
Summary: Victor has been cursed by the god of his solar system at a young age, orphaned by a solar storm of his wrath. Now, as the town Victor lives in suffers from the god’s neglect, the people decide to offer up a sacrifice and to let the god destroy once and for all a cursed family line.But…What if the god isn’t interested in the affairs of mortals and their sacrifices?And what if Victor wants to be taken by the god anyway?(On a temporary hiatus!)
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 166
Kudos: 154





	1. Chapter 1

It’s _freezing_.

Victor knows that’s probably the last thing that he should be focused on right now. Maybe he should worry about the fact that he’s tied up to a rotten wooden spire on top of an old temple that’s seen better days, his feet barely touching the shingles. Or maybe the fact that he’s sure as hell about to die, because if the monstrous god of theirs doesn’t come and kill him, the chill from the shrouded sun and the snow around him will. Or maybe it should bother him that his own village decided his life was worthless to them.

A snort escapes Victor, a puff of his hot breath clouding the air in front of him. Victor’s life hasn’t meant anything to those people in a _long_ time. Not since the first major solar storm in the area took the lives of his parents when he was a young teen, and they had assumed that it was the god of their solar system that had taken its wrath out on the Nikiforovs and their successful enterprise.

Where people would make way for Victor when he walked, they now push and shove him into the dirt and the snow that never stops falling.

Where people used to praise the Nikiforovs for bringing so much travel and so many tourists to their little moon, they now use his name as a curse.

Where Victor used to have a family that wasn’t the warmest but at least loved him, he now has only hate and resentment in every person he meets.

So, no. Honestly, if anything, he should be grateful that it’s finally all over. Since his parents died and people stopped wanting to visit their planet, their sun has been shrouded in shadow in what people have dubbed The Eclipse—the god’s wrath for asking too much of it—and keeps their climate caught in varying degrees of winter.

Victor hasn’t had the chance to even try to escape since then. The freight ships have no pity, and stowaways aren’t treated kindly, to say the least.

Victor sags against his bindings, his skin long since rubbed raw. At least he can be thankful that they didn’t take the kids. Those two were orphaned long after Victor’s parents left him, years after The Eclipse set in. Their home settlement takes pity on the kids at least. Minami’s thankfully good at working the crowd, likely to bring home some food that Victor can stretch out for a few days—though Yura would rather stab a person than accept pity. He knows how to fight though; he’d more than give Victor a run for his money.

They’llbe able to keep each other safe after Victor’s... After the god…

Honestly, Victor’s not even sure what comes next. They’ve abandoned this god for so long, Victor’s not even sure what the thing _looks_ like. His parents would always tell him that the god was gentle and kind, quiet and watchful from a distance.

But if that were true, wouldn’t it have saved them from the solar storm that burned the Nikiforov fleet of ships to a crisp?

If they ever had a god in this cursed solar system, Victor wouldn’t doubt that it had long since abandoned this pathetic settlement. As far as Victor’s aware, no other life exists on the other planets here—after all, only this moon was even remotely habitable for human life, fertile soils once making it a wonderful place to farm.

So really, the best he can hope for is hypothermia to take him quickly and quietly. He just hopes that it isn’t the kids that come and find him. He can’t scrub the memory of Minami sobbing and Yuri screaming and kicking and biting as Victor let the newest settlement governor take him away, out of their little shack of a home.

It’s funny; Victor remembers learning about how savage the human race used to be on the home planet, how lucky they are to be in such a small little community in such an advanced culture. But put them under pressure, and they revert to the creatures they claim to have evolved so far from.

It doesn’t help that the planet’s governor just passed away and his son stepped into his footsteps. He’s always been angry and emotional, and it’s easy to blame his father’s heart-attack on Victor. It’s easy to blame _everything_ on Victor.

At least some of the people seemed remorseful when they tied Victor up here, that _kid_ spouting threats that if they didn’t do the job right….

Too bad they couldn’t have tied the bindings around Victor’s coat. It probably wouldn’t have given him enough room to wiggle free with how ratty and worn his clothes are, but it would have given his skin some protection from the rough rope.

Victor tries to wiggle his fingers, move some blood—

But he can’t feel them.

He trembles, and he’s not sure it’s just from the cold.

Okay, so maybe he cares a little bit more about this than he thought. His life practically ended when his parents died, but it didn’t actually _end_. Gods, he should have had so much more time left too, if he kept managing to get odd jobs and scraping by.

Victor could sing and dance with the kids still while they heat up whatever remnants of food they still have. He could still wake up and see the endless expanse of fresh snow in the mornings, feeling small in a way that seems important, significant. He might still get off the planet, there’s still hope.

He _has_ to hope.

If not for himself, then for the kids.

He’s cold and he’s tired and he’s hungry, but Victor pulls at his bindings, gritting his teeth at the burn of the rope against his wrists—and he _keeps_ pulling. The temple’s been treated like a cursed place since their diety supposedly abandoned them, the shining golden figure of their god, the keeper of their sun, long since rotted away. And Victor’s weak from never eating enough so he can give the kids more, but he walks and he hunts and sometimes, when he’s feeling nostalgic and dreaming of a future he’ll never have, he dances like his old instructor used to teach him. There had been rumors he’d join an intergalactic troupe before everything fell apart.

But at least for this moment, it’s kept up his core strength. The rotten wood creaks and cracks beneath his weight and he screams, tugging with all the energy that he has left—

Until he collapses onto the snow-coated shingles beneath him, the old roof groaning in a way that’s less than comforting. A part of the spire slams into Victor’s back and knocks the breath out of him, making him whimper as he gasps.

His muscles scream and his lungs ache and the snow burns against the bare skin that can still feel enough to be cold. Victor’s hands are still tied behind his back and he tries flexing his fingers again.

Still nothing.

He continues to shake as he lays there, squeezing his eyes shut. What is he going to do if his hands don’t make it? What is he going to do in general? If he gets back, he can’t get any work. Even if he shaved off the silver of his hair, the striking blue of his eyes are an odd, recognizable shade. Both things he used to be proud of that he now curses and loathes. He just wants to be ordinary. He just wants to take care of the kids.

He wants to live, and to have something worth living for.

“What are you doing on the ground?”

Victor’s breath catches in his throat. Fuck. They sent someone to see if he’d been taken or frozen to death. He’s going to get tied to another spire and he’s not going to have the energy to pull free again, especially considering they’ll be testing the next one they’ll tie him to.

Who is he kidding? He probably won’t make it back home at this point. Just the idea of lifting his head is overwhelming, but he has one option left:

To beg and grovel like the dog they think he is.

“Please.” Victor chokes the word out the word before breaking into a coughing fit that sends tears spilling down his face—but he doesn’t have time for this. He forces himself up onto his hands and knees, trying to blink away the tears so he can see if he recognizes this person, if maybe he’s worked for them or they’ve shown some small kindness to him before. “I-I, please, I-I-I’m—”

Victor’s breath catches as his vision clears and he takes in the person standing before him.

Though, honestly, he hesitates to call them a person.

It’s not that they aren’t shaped like one—in fact, they’re an amazing specimen of what may be a man, his body muscular yet lean, a wonderful golden tone to his skin that Victor’s sun-starved body can only dream of. His hair is darker than the night and, well, he’s _very_ naked, and Victor can’t help but look at such a gorgeous creature. He should look away, some part of his brain scolds him for staring, but he’s too cold and tired to care. Not when this person is so beautiful, and not with the tattoos that smother his body.

Masses of black seem to writhe across his skin like they’re alive or they’re—they’re something. But they’re even darker than his hair, as if made from shadow itself.

And Victor… He wishes he could touch.

“Oh.” The man kneels down in front of Victor’s hunched form. His eyes are wide and brown as he searches Victor’s face, and Victor has to wonder if this is some dying hallucination, because this man doesn’t look disgusted. He looks… Awed, almost. Caught off guard by something. Maybe the odd color of Victor’s hair? If he weren’t half-frozen, Victor would try and make a joke about it being natural, but he can’t look away from those eyes, and… from the slight flush across the man’s face? Beautifully pink across lush skin.

“You’re beautiful,” the man murmurs, and if Victor had any warmth in him, he’d be flushing too.

In fact, his heart beats a little faster at the sight of this man, at his words, at— _everything_. If he’s really just lying on the snow as his heart slowly coming to a stop and this hallucination is the last thing he ever sees, maybe he can die happy. Victor hasn’t truly _wanted_ for anything since he was a teen, since he prayed and hoped for hours and days and months for his parents to miraculously come home and scoop him up off the streets before he found hope too painful to even consider.

But he _wants_. He doesn’t even know what exactly he wants, but he feels it with his entire body, his mind consumed, his soul aching. For years, his life has been about survival, first his own and then making sure that the kids were okay and taken care of.

This isn’t about survival, though. It’s about _living_. Even as his fingers stay numb and his entire body tremors in the bitter cold, even as he’s sure he’s going to die, he finds more life in this man’s eyes than he’s ever found anywhere else. Even before the accident that threw his existence into turmoil.

Victor doesn’t know what he wants, but he’d do anything for this man.

And then—warmth. Victor flinches at it, burning against his skin even as the touch of it is feather-soft and gentle. Fingers caress the frost blooming on Victor’s cheeks and his chin, exploring as if he’s something tender and delicate and worth preserving.

Victor’s breath hitches and tears build in his eyes, though none spill over this time. It’s probably his imagination, but it feels as if the warmth spreads, tentatively spilling over his scalp, brushing carefully down his throat and filling his lungs as the man’s eyes never for a moment leave him.

If this is what dying is like, Victor doesn’t know why he ever bothered to fear it.

Victor’s eyes flutter shut and he sighs, leaning into the touch. Something in him purrs to hear the man’s breath catch at his reaction, but he doesn’t dwell on it too long as the man cups his face, and then something soft and gentle brushes against his forehead. Almost like a kiss?

But Victor doesn’t have too much time to think about that as heat rushes through him, tender and burning all at once. It doesn’t fill that need, that craving that aches in Victor—if anything, it _fuels_ it. His frigid senses sharpen as they warm. His fingers feel like they’re full of pins and needles as they come back to their senses, but he _feels_ the pain of them, and it jolts through his system with alarming clarity.

Victor’s not dying. If anything, he has to be already dead.

He opens his eyes again to stare at the man in front of him, face slack with warmth and awe. This is— But it _can’t_ be—

The man’s hands slide away from Victor’s face and Victor can’t help the whimper that escapes his mouth, a sad smile spreading across the man’s face. “Tell the inhabitants of this moon that I want no sacrifices, no matter how pretty or virginal. Understood?”

“I—” Victor can feel his cheeks flushing an angry red. _Virginal_. It’s not like he can argue it—no one’s wanted to be with a man like him, even if he entertained the idea of it sometimes. But that is _not_ why he’s a sacrifice. “I’m here because I’m the last of my family, one that _you_ destroyed in that storm. They want you to take mercy on them for taking the last of my family line.”

“Ah.” All humor slips away from the man’s face. “I… I’m sorry. It wasn’t— You weren’t a target in that. Your family wasn’t. I don’t want _anyone_ to die on my watch. I never did.”

“Th-then why are you letting us _freeze_!” Victor trembles, but he’s not sure what it’s from. This is the god of their solar system. This is the one who put Victor through every hardship of this life. And yet he’s saving Victor right now? _Why_? Victor doesn’t know what he wants from the god, an apology or an explanation, but all he knows is that need inside him is taking shape, forming a blade that’s sharp and vicious.

The god shakes his head. “I don’t have time for this. I’m sorry. There’s nothing that I more can tell you other than that. Now promise that you’ll tell them that I want no more. There’s nothing that you can give me that would change the state of the sun. Understood?”

Victor laughs, some mix of dark humor and terror that he can’t find his way through. “Tell them yourself.”

Honestly, if Victor goes back, his original problem still remains. He’d have to hide. Which gives him no way to make money to leave the planet. They might have enough hidden away for Victor alone to get off the planet, but then that leaves the kids with _nothing_ when the eternal winter gets tough and it’s hard just to leave the house, much less make the walk to town.

The god frowns at him. “What did you say?”

Victor laughs again, and he knows it sounds maniacal, but he doesn’t care. There’s no way out of this. He goes back and he drains the kids and their work dry. Or he dies here and leaves the kids on their own. It’s not like this _god_ holds any answers.

Unless…

Victor chokes on the cold air, taking a moment to catch his breath and _think_. Staying here on this planet isn’t an option. Period. And this god is… strange, but obviously doesn’t mean Victor any harm. Not yet, anyway. If he plays his cards right, maybe he could get him _and_ the kids off of this moon.

With a shaky breath, Victor fills his lungs. “Take me.”

The god blinks at him for a moment. “I’m sorry, _what_?”

“If you leave me here, they’ll kill me and anyone that I know. If you take me, at least they’ll think that it worked, even if you refuse to fix anything.” What a selfish god they have. Then again, isn’t Victor a selfish man, getting away from this place while he has a chance? “They’ll only sacrifice more if you don’t take me.”

The god frowns. “No.”

Despair claws through Victor’s chest and up his throat—but he’s not the kind of person to roll over and die. “I have nowhere I can go. You might as well use me as some servant or something. I— I can cook. Kind of. I can clean decently. I can dance.”

The god freezes, even his tattoos stilling. “Dance?”

“Yes!” Victor shuffles forward on his knees, looking up at the god with the most pleading look he can manage. “I’ve studied all sorts of dance. From a formal instructor—and then some studying on my own. I’m proficient, and I’m eager to learn more. _Please_.”

Those brown eyes focus on Victor again, everything sharper about how they look over Victor, look _through_ Victor. It makes him shiver. “I do miss dance…”

“I’ll dance for you once a day. Twice a day. All day, every day, just please—” Victor’s voice cracks and he presses his face to the earth, blinking back a sudden wave of burning tears. “I have no other options. _Please_.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting into.” The god’s voice has an edge that it hasn’t had before, and something makes Victor glad he’s looking away.

“I mean it, I’ll do _anything_. I’m your sacrifice, aren’t I?” Victor tries to hide that his voice is shaking now, but he’s not sure he gets away with it. “Use me how you will.”

The god snorts. “No, you don’t understand. Look. You’ll see. Look _up_.”

At the god’s harsh demand, Victor dares to raise his head—and whimpers _._

Those writhing tattoos have slipped free of the man’s body, curling and curving around him in pure darkness and shadow, other than where they lash out—almost like tentacles.

Well, they have said that gods are nothing like humans. And Victor could imagine worse than tentacles.

Then in a sharp jerk of a movement, the tentacles grow _spikes_ , oozing a sort of purple, semi-translucent liquid that oozes darkness like smoke. One of the tentacles reaches out in a sharp movement toward Victor, making him squeak.

But he refuses to flinch.

The tentacle slows its approach, almost delicate as it reaches for Victor’s face. And only through sheer force of will do Victor’s eyes stay open, glued to those sharp spikes grazing his face—not hard enough to break the skin, but sharp enough to sting harshly and make Victor suck in a breath.

“I am not human,” the god murmurs as he continues to caress Victor. “I don’t have the same kindness. I don’t have sympathy. I don’t love. And you still want to come with me?”

“Yes.” Victor doesn’t hesitate a second in answering, knowing that any sign of weakness might be used against him.

The god sighs. “Very well. You may call me Yuuri.”

“Yuuri.” Victor sounds out the name on his tongue, feeling how the “u” in it runs a bit longer and more fluid than Yura’s. “I’m Victor.”

The god nods. “Then we should head off. Oh, and please don’t breathe.”

Victor frowns. “Please don’t _what_? I—“

The darkness and the spikes strike toward him, too fast for Victor to even raise his arms before he’s surrounded, pins pricking into his skin as the world turns, _churns_ , goes so dark that Victor can’t be sure it ever even existed in the first place.

And Victor screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The fic that the internet at large fondly knows as "The Spiky Dick Fic"  
> (Which, just to be clear, is going to consensual and non-painful, ok, I'm all for some BDSM play but this is where I draw a firm line. Victor's colon will survive this fic. nOW THAT THAT'S OUT OF THE WAY)
> 
> Things are a bit crazy in my neck of the woods, but I wanted to slap this up while I can. :D Meaning, yes, I'm posting two multichapter fics with schedules at the same time, it's fINE. I'm currently working on chapter five of this fic, so I'm not sure how long it'll be yet, but I hope you enjoy!!!
> 
> Thank you so, so much to Dachi  
>  for being an amazing alpha, and [Tess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewalrus_said/pseuds/thewalrus_said) for being an badass beta!


	2. Chapter 2

“Well, I told him to hold his breath!”

“Did you tell him _why_?”

Victor wakes to voices he doesn’t recognize—or at least, he doesn’t know one of them. The other is very fresh in his mind, a voice that’s all sharp darkness and odd limbs and deep brown eyes that stir something long-since dead in his chest—

“Oh, he’s awake.” _The_ voice, the one belonging to the god called Yuuri, gets closer. “Are you okay? Can you open your eyes?”

“Yuuri.” The second voice sighs as Victor tries to open his eyes, burning against the bright light. “Takeshi already said that he’s fine, there wasn’t any permanent damage to his lungs that even _you_ couldn’t fix.”

Someone—Yuuri, Victor assumes—sucks in a breath. “I… I still want to make sure.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like—”

“Victor?” Yuuri interrupts the other voice. “I know you need rest, but I’d like to know you’re okay before I leave you.”

Victor should probably be eager to be around the god, get on his good side and make a plan for how he’s going to use this situation to get him and the kids off their moon—but as he becomes more and more aware of the room around him, the pounding pain against his temple gets sharper. He just wants to rest, and anything he can do to get rid of these people sounds good to him.

He blinks rapidly as he adjusts to light that’s brighter than he’s seen in _years_. It’s warm too, almost like the vague memories he has of the sun. But before he can take a good look around he makes out a figure, and his heart jumps a bit in his chest at the sight.

It’s the same man—the _god_ —that Victor saw on the roof of the temple. Yuuri.

His hair is still dark, though in proper lighting it looks soft and fluffy and very touchable. Victor’s fingers twitch to do just that, but instead he looks down to where the tentacles were last time he saw Yuuri and—

“Oh.” Victor frowns up at Yuuri. “You’re wearing clothes.”

There’s a choked sort of snorting noise from behind Yuuri, drawing Victor’s attention for just a moment.

But then Yuuri cocks an eyebrow. Something about this man—this god—always draws Victor’s attention back to him, despite the fact that Yuuri has long since abandoned him and his moon.

Though, it’s not as if most of the other people deserve having a god, really. Victor can sort of understand why a god would walk away from most of them—especially that kid currently in charge, who tied him up like cattle for slaughter.

But… this god _did_ interfere, didn’t he? He saved Victor.

Why didn’t Yuuri save Victor’s parents?

“Hm.” Yuuri glances Victor up and down, as if his skin-and-bones appearance is anything to look at. “You say that like you’re disappointed. Are you?”

“And if I am?” Victor raises both of his own brows, even as a small pink flush spreads across the bridge of his nose.

Victor doesn’t know how to flirt. He knows how to charm, how to talk easily with everyone but the most hostile of people—it’s something that he had to learn and adapt to, or he wouldn’t make it.

But flirting? There’s never been room for honest flirting.

Why would he even flirt with this god of all things? This is the person who left his parents to die, let their ship melt and burn in a solar storm—

Victor sucks in a quiet breath. No, he’s _over_ that. He hasn’t so much as cried over them in years, it’s just a fact of his life. It doesn’t matter anymore; he’s here for one purpose and that _does_ matter. What does he even remember about his parents anyway? Why would he _care_?

There’s a cackling from behind Yuuri, startling Victor from his thoughts. “Wow, yeah. I think he’s fine, Yuuri.”

Victor once again goes to look around Yuuri, but then there’s a hand on his forehead and it’s nice. Too nice.

Victor’s eyes flutter shut as he leans against Yuuri’s hand, nuzzling in a bit—

Until Yuuri pulls away, and a small sound escapes Victor.

“You’re too malnourished to do much.” Yuuri nods, standing up straight. “We’ll fix that, then discuss your situation. Does that sound okay?”

Victor can’t help but nod. That sounds more than okay. He’ll be safe and fed, and he’ll have time to plot and study wherever he is. The kids have enough food and resources to last them that much time, at least. And then they’ll escape once and for all, build a future for themselves away from ridiculous, superstitious people that won’t let them simply _live_.

“Good. Then Phichit here will help you settle in while I take care of business.” Yuuri nods and then leaves the room—if that’s what this place even is.

The first thing that Victor notices is that it’s not winter. That he’s actually _warm_ in a way that isn’t just artificial, the eternal chill not seeping through every crack in the room.

The second thing he notices is that it really does look like the sun is out, the light warm and bright and golden in a way that buzzing bulbs and electricity can’t quite imitate.

The third thing is that there is a wall made out of _water_. It’s almost as if this room is just a sea cave, but somehow emptied of water, completely submerged but not far enough from the surface to cut off much sunlight. In the water, green and red and purple plants sway in the current of the shallow water, fish and creatures darting in and out and around. Victor tilts his head a bit, trying to catch the reflection of glass—some sign that there’s a screen or a window there. Or maybe it’s a hologram? The technology was still extremely expensive when Victor first learned of it—but it isn’t like he’s had much off-settlement information since he’d been practically exiled from civilization.

But, well, if anyone could pull off that kind of wealth, it would be a god. But if Yuuri is really a god, does he even need it?

“Neat, isn’t it?” There’s another man in the room with him, dressed in bright green robes, with a smile that seems honest. His eyes are grey but shining in the sunlight, skin warm and darker than Yuuri’s, more bronze than gold. His hair is just as dark as Yuuri’s and, honestly, he’s very pretty as well. But not in the same, tempting way that Yuuri is.

Which is unfair, because Victor’s not here to appreciate _that_. Not after this god has shown that he doesn’t care about the likes of him. After all, wasn’t it Yuuri himself that said he couldn’t love?

Victor shakes his head, almost laughing aloud. Love? Victor doesn’t have time for that, especially not for a god that doesn’t care about anything other than maybe his dancing. Not to mention, he doesn’t even know anything about Yuuri other than he’s nice to look at.

Victor’s done stupid things before, but never for a pretty face other than his own. He’s not going to step away from that pattern now.

“Yuuri’s had a lot of time stuck here, so he’s really taken the time to make his palace a home.” The man nods at the wall of water. “You can walk right in and out that window if you like. It’ll dry you off walking through it, so you can go swimming without worrying about getting your stuff wet. Yuuri really is ingenious.”

Victor narrows his eyes at the man—Phichit, was it?—and slowly rises to his feet, shuffling over to the wall. Slowly he sinks his fingers in and, yep, it’s wet. But when he pulls it out, his skin is completely dry.

“Told you!” Phichit chirps behind him.

Victor turns, and as he does so he shakes, limbs trembling. “ _This_ is what he’s been doing? While my family died and my friends starved? He’s been making a castle?”

Phichit narrows his eyes a little, his happy glow dimming under Victor’s scrutiny. “Not by choice, no. Yuuri has tried to help you, done everything he can. But these last few years have been hard on him, too.”

Victor lets out a small, bitter laugh, glancing at the window into the ocean again. “Has it really? Sure looks like it. Sure _feels_ like it.”

“Do not speak of what you do not know, Victor Nikiforov.” Phichit’s voice deepens, distorts. The grey of his pupils grows like a stormy fog, consuming his eyes as the room seems to lose focus around Victor. “There’s a story here as deep and as complex as your own. It isn’t one I’m allowed to tell, but it is yours to find if you decide to look. You may do a lot of things while in this castle. In fact, Yuuri’s already gone so far as to allow you to do almost anything. But _I_ will not allow you to insult Katsuki Yuuri in any way, shape, or form that he has not earned. _Are we understood_?”

“Y-yes,” Victor breathes, shrinking back. Gods, he really needs to get control of himself. He’s not _like_ this. He’s been done with these feelings for years now—why are they coming back like this? And so _strongly_? He’ll do better. He _has_ to. Yuuri has done some awful things through negligence, but that’s not what Victor’s here for.

“Okay, great!” The smile’s back on Phichit’s face, just like it never left. “You seem like a good guy, but both you and Yuuri are in sensitive places, you know?”

No, Victor doesn’t know. But the only way to find out seems to be getting on these guys’ good side, because apparently they’re gods in far more than titles. So Victor nods.

“I’m the ruler of another solar system that lacks intelligent life, though the creatures that live there more than make up for it— I’ll show you later.” Phichit winks. “You can see the sun from here because you’re on a planet on the inside of the shadow blocking it—”

“Shouldn’t we be _dead_? Victor squeaks, scrambling back to the water window, trying to look up and out at the sky. No one can even get close enough to get a good look at The Eclipse to see what it’s made of—much less get _inside_ it—without burning to a crisp.

Phichit snorts. “We’re gods, remember? You’ll get used to it eventually. I think. It’s been a long time since Yuuri’s had any guests that aren’t his family or me—I doubt a human has ever set foot on this planet.”

Then why would Yuuri, a _god_ , ever choose to bring Victor here? It isn’t a question that he should ask, and Victor knows better than to speak it out loud. But he _wonders_. Because he’s a half-starved peasant who barely remembers any of the valuable skills he learned as a kid. It’s not something that Victor normally cares about, but to Yuuri, it should be obvious that Victor’s no professional dancer. There’s no good reason that Victor can think of that Yuuri would take him in. Not unless he really _does_ care about the Nikiforov line? But _why_?

“Anyway,” Phichit draws out the word as he stretches, like this conversation hasn’t been a giant, confusing mess of words and there’s any clean way to segue into another topic. “Let’s get food, shall we?”

Victor nods, a little numb—and winces when it makes his head hurt more.

Phichit grimaces as he leads Victor to the thin door, sliding it open and striding through.

“Sorry about that headache, by the way. Yuuri travels by compressing space and sometimes it leads to lung collapse if you breathe in during it, and your lungs are fine _now,_ but for a moment— Hey, you okay there?” Phichit walks by Victor before pausing to look back with a furrow in his brow as Victor hesitates in the doorway.

Victor tentatively reaches out through the door—but it’s not like at the window. It’s not wet.

And yet the hallway of polished, black stone ahead of him is illuminated by glowing, swaying kelp and moss. Like the whole thing is underwater.

Phichit chuckles. “You’re gonna have a bit of a hard time adjusting, huh? Remember that you’re in the house of a god—a god that has been stuck here, mostly alone, for over a decade. You’re going to see a lot of strange things. Come on.”

And Phichit turns and strides away, leaving Victor to scramble after him.

It isn’t like Phichit’s wrong. Victor was prepared for a change of scenery when he left the only home he’d ever known—if you could even call it a “home”—but this is… It’s…

It’s indescribable. And it’s _beautiful_. But Victor can’t wrap his mind around a god choosing to spend their time on _this_ while people are dying. He can’t imagine such malice behind those soft, brown eyes—

But Victor doesn’t know Yuuri. He doesn’t _need_ to know Yuuri.

“It’s the human!”

“He’s really here!”

“He smells weird.”

Victor emerges into a large room with a huge table down the middle of it made of something gleaming and white—maybe marble—and he’s quickly distracted from looking around by three little bodies swarming him.

Three identical little girls, specifically.

They’re a _lot_ younger than Yura and Minami, and they start talking so fast that Victor can’t even begin to make sense of it—except that comment about smelling funny stands out because he _shouldn’t_ smell funny since he at least _bathes_. He may be a social outcast, but he isn’t a pariah for his _smell_.

“Girls!” A voice booms through the hall, followed by a man coming through a much smaller doorway than the one that Phichit and Victor just walked through. “What have I told you about scrambling around when Yuuri has a— Oh, it’s the guest!”

The man bows to Victor—to _Victor_ , like he isn’t just some random sacrifice scooped up and brought to the house of a god. He’s a large man, but not in a way that makes him too intimidating. His cheeks are round, and there are laugh-lines around his eyes—something Victor doesn’t see too often in people anymore.

“It’s an honor to have you here, and— _Girls_!” The man booms the last word, sending the girls giggling and running through the door behind him, into what at a glance seems to be full of pots and pans—a kitchen? “Please excuse them, it’s their first time seeing a mortal human.”

Well it’s _Victor’s_ first time seeing a god, and his first time being surrounded by such strange things, and— Did one of those little girls have a _tail_?

“It’s alright,” Victor manages, the words faint as he feels a little light-headed. “Th-they’re just children. So small.” Smaller than his kids, for sure. He’s not sure he could have taken on either of his boys if they were that rambunctious—they’re already powerhouses of personality and they’re just teenagers.

The man frowns. “You need some food in you. I’ll be right back.”

And he shuffles back through the door.

Phichit takes a hold of Victor’s elbow, dragging him toward the table and sitting him on a white chair—which is actually more comfortable than Victor would have thought, being made of what looks like stone and all. “Not used to kids, are you?”

“No, I— Well, not that young. Mine are— They’re teens.” Victor sags into the chair as his head settles and his stomach gurgles. He didn’t even notice he’d gotten that hungry.

Phichit suddenly drops his elbow. “You’re married? And have _kids_?”

The thought is so ludicrous, so _absurd_ , that a laugh bursts out of Victor’s lips. It probably sounds as crazed as he feels, but he doesn’t care right now. “No, you couldn’t _pay_ anyone in that settlement on that moon to be with a man like me. They’re fellow orphans, I’m the oldest, and…”

“Ah.” Phichit takes a seat next to him, folding his hands in front of them. “Do you miss them?”

Some days, the hardest days when it feels like Victor’s fighting a battle he’s already lost a long time ago, he wishes that he didn’t have one more mouth to feed. But that comes from frustration more than anything else. Before those boys, Victor was alone. He had nothing and no one to live for, no motivation to keep going other than the fact that he couldn’t give up. And then he met those kids, got to know them, saw how bright and amazing they are even though no one else could see it…

Victor only manages to nod, his throat clogged with emotion he can’t quite name.

Phichit simply puts a hand on Victor’s shoulder as the door to what has to be the kitchen opens again, the man putting something down in front of Victor that smells so good, so _rich_ , that Victor immediately grabs utensils and starts digging in.

“Thanks, Takeshi,” Phichit says with an amused smile, watching Victor eat.

“Of course.” The man, Takeshi, gives another quick bow before turning and screaming, “ _Girls_!” and running back in the kitchen.

This time Phichit pays the shenanigans no mind as he watches Victor eat with an expression that’s mostly unchanging.

Victor doesn’t comment on anything, either. This is the most he’s eaten in he doesn’t _know_ how long. Even after he’s full he keeps eating, scraping his plate clean as his stomach protests.

He knows, reasonably, there’s no need for it. He’s not going to starve here; worst case scenario, the gods have enough of him and send him back to that pathetic little moon and how much he’s eaten won’t matter at all because he’ll be as good as dead before he can say a word.

But old habits die hard.

Eventually, he pushes away the plate, leaning back in his chair and taking a deep breath. If only he could share this with the kids…

“It’s a little odd, isn’t it?” Phichit leans in closer, expression still oddly solemn.

“Wh-what?” Victor tries to smile politely, but it doesn’t come out too honest from the way that Phichit raises an eyebrow.

“When mortals think of gods, they normally don’t think of warm, cozy homes with families and pets and knick-knacks just like theirs. But remember that gods are just as flawed as humans, Victor. That they make mistakes, too.”

Victor presses his lips together, taking a moment to close his eyes and think. Mistakes are one thing. Murder isn’t. Sacrifice isn’t. Abandoning an entire moon full of people to freeze to death while more profitable trading ships move their routes farther and farther away from the little farming moon surrounded by solar storms, slowly becoming separated by the societies that could change the fate of his little settlement if they could look outside of themselves for even a moment.

He’s had enough of selfish people and selfish gods alike. The planets and societies that have left their little town to rot, these gods who turn a blind eye, and the people in the town itself who would gladly leave a _child_ out in the snowy streets at even the idea of him being cursed—they can all rot.

“I can see that hatred and resentment brewing in you.” Phichit raises his eyebrows as he takes a slow, long sip of his tea. “Before you let it consume you, ask him.”

Victor blinks, completely tugged out of his own thoughts. “What?”

“Yuuri. Whatever you hate him for, ask him about it.” Phichit smiles at him, but for once it’s too sad to be glowing and brilliant. “Yuuri carries a lot of regret and a lot of mistakes on his shoulders. Before you attack him for deeds that he may or may not have done, ask him about it.”

Victor glances away from Phichit, at the great blue expanse that lurks at their back, empty enough to make Victor uneasy.

It’s easy for Phichit to say that; he’s another god. He’s a friend of Yuuri’s, apparently. Victor doesn’t know Yuuri, or Phichit, or any of the people in this strange, strange palace beneath the sea, on this planet far from his moon.

But Victor knows better than to tell a lie around Phichit, who seems far more observant than he lets on. So Victor tells as much of the truth as he can. “I’ll consider it.”

“And that’s all anyone can ask you to do.” Phichit’s smile grows into something happier, more genuine that somehow even catches on Victor’s lips.

It’s easy to want to trust them, these gods. They really do seem like people.

But Yuuri was heartless enough to have abandoned his solar system for over a decade.

Though… could Phichit be onto something?

Could there be a why behind it all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this was gonna be a pwp at first... HAAAAAH I should know me better. I love the cast too much not to include more of them
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and an especially big thank you to Dachi and [Tess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewalrus_said/pseuds/thewalrus_said) for helping me push through and write this during some hellish times <3


	3. Chapter 3

The next time that Victor wakes up, it’s far quieter in the room, and much less jarring. It gives him time to notice that the sheets on the bed are softer than anything he’s felt on his skin for years, the mattress solid but in a nice way, unlike the worn-to-lumpy-tatters one that he’d managed to carry back to their house from the side of the road. At least the kids have slightly nicer mattresses; they’re still growing and need the support.

He’s also not in his own clothes anymore, which is weird but he’s not going to think about it too much. If he were wearing his old clothes, it would be a harsh contrast to the finery that surrounds him now, not to mention they’d be dirty as hell with what happened before.

A shiver runs through Victor. He’s not sure how close to death he’d been, but he knows he wasn’t far off. He wouldn’t have made it anywhere safely—at the very least, he would have lost some fingers, if not limbs.

And then Yuuri, the god that had thoughtlessly let Victor’s parents die, saved him. Why him and not his parents? Because Victor loved his parents, yes, but it also ruined his own life. Honestly, what about him now is worth saving? Not that he doesn’t want to live, but no one could call Victor’s life much of a life anyway. It’s something he’s tried not to think about, but it’s the truth. Every day he spends just trying to scrape by so he can spend another day scraping by. And if he spends too much time alone with his thoughts, he’s not sure he could keep going at it.

A bit like the memory of his parents, he supposes.

Victor sits up, shaking his head. That happened years ago. Obviously Yuuri is a god that doesn’t care much about people. Which doesn’t make Victor’s task any easier, but making it as streamlined and direct as possible is what he needs to focus on. A better life for him and the kids. That’s _all_ that matters. He’s been able to make it without thinking about all this crap for years; there’s no reason for it to eat at him now.

“Good morning.”

Victor jumps and lets out a small squeak.

The woman in the room with him smiles, an almost unconscious twitch of the face. Her brown hair is tied back, warm, amber eyes trained on him unflinchingly. And her clothes are... Maybe not entirely clothes? She’s wrapped in a robe of sorts, but it almost seems plated with shining metal, golden but not quite as bright as the true gold Victor’s seen a few times in his life.

And there’s a thin sword strapped to her hip, hanging close to the ground from where she sits, on display in a subtle but obvious way.

“Uh.” Victor looks up at her face, smiling nervously at her, the room painted slightly pink and orange from the sunrise—or maybe sunset? “Hi? Nice to meet you?”

She laughs, soft and small, but it seems real at least. “It’s nice to meet you, Victor. My name is Yuuko. I’m Yuuri’s guard.”

“Ah, that explains the sword then.” Victor glances back at it while Yuuko laughs again. But Victor, on the other hand, frowns. “Wait, he only has _one_?”

“He only _needs_ one.” Her smile turns into more of a smirk and she winks at him.

“I see,” Victor says, even though he really doesn’t, and he’d rather not. The law enforcement in the settlement was pathetic and still a pain; it’s easy to see how one very good warrior could be better than an entire team.

“Do you?” The humor fades from her face as she gives Victor a look and he scrambles to understand what she means. “I’ll put it bluntly for you. Are you here to harm Yuuri?”

“What?” Victor blinks. “Can you even hurt a god?”

She raises an eyebrow.

Well, okay, dumb question. If he has a guard, it’s obviously to protect him from _something_.

“It seems that you’ve shown some aggression toward Yuuri.” Yuuko’s eyes narrow a bit. “He’s my job, but he’s also a childhood friend that I care about deeply. If you have any ill intentions toward him, I won’t have mercy.”

Does Victor have any ill intent toward Yuuri? He’s supposed to be the guardian of the solar system, but he let Victor’s family die, and he’s let the local solar storms get so bad that only certain ships would even dare to venture into this part of the galaxy. He never helped Victor or the kids when they could have really used him.

So Victor can say he doesn’t like Yuuri; that’s easy enough to determine. Even if his soft face and bright eyes are lovely to look at, even if his words are kind and he’s been nothing but gentle to Victor since meeting him, saving him for some reason.

But to cause someone physical harm? No. The only person he can see even punching in the face is the leader’s son, Mickey. He can blame Yuuri all he wants for abandoning Victor and all of his loved ones, but only one person tied Victor up to a spire hoping he would die— _knowing_ he would die, and being happy about it.

But unless Yuuri is creating the solar storms plaguing their system, it’s only his negligence that’s hurt Victor—and Phichit’s words haunt the back of his mind.

How much doesn’t Victor know?

So he shakes his head and answers honestly. “He’s done nothing to stop all of the tragedy that’s happened to me in my life, and I hate him for it. But he also saved me when no one else would or could have. I owe him my life and then some, so even if I wanted to hurt him—which I don’t—I wouldn’t.”

Yuuko stares at him for a moment longer, expression unreadable, before she nods. “Alright. You don’t seem like you’re lying. Know that I’ve got both eyes on you though, even if you can’t see me.”

Well, that isn’t ominous or anything. Victor still can’t help but smile a little, though. It’s nice to be around people that care about each other so much. Not that he doesn’t care about the kids, but in the settlement all he’s ever been met with is hate and, if he’s lucky, indifference. They don’t show weakness like love around the likes of Victor.

“You really care about him, huh?” Victor dares a tentative smile at Yuuko. “Are you his wife or something?”

A laugh bursts out of Yuuko, her head falling back a little. “Oh no. That would have ended _terribly_. Though I think he had a crush on me once when we were children, we had very different paths. I’m tied to someone else. In fact, I believe you met my little girls.”

No wonder that lot is so overwhelming; they’re the children of a warrior.

Yuuko laughs again as she watches the expressions play across Victor’s face. “Yeah, they’re something else. They’ll calm down a little, though. There’s never been a human here in their lifetime—well, not my lifetime, either.”

Victor frowns. “Is it really that rare?”

“For Yuuri?” She nods. “Honestly, I didn’t even believe it until I saw you myself—even if Phichit and Takeshi and the girls won’t stop talking about you.”

He looks down at his hands a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. So it’s not just a rarity for him to be here, it’s something that _doesn’t happen_. He sold Yuuri on bringing him here because of his dancing, but even an ignorant god can’t be unaware that he’s just a peasant, not a performer. He even admitted that Victor needs to put on weight before he can dance properly, which is true. But if he wanted a court of entertainers, he has his pick. It’s not like there are as many as there used to be, but they’re still out there.

So why Victor? Pity? Or something else?

“You look confused.” Yuuko gives him a gentle smile and an opening to ask his questions, not mocking him like Victor would have expected.

Victor’s known her all of maybe five minutes, but he’s willing to bet she’s a good mother.

“To be honest, I don’t understand much.” He gives her one of the smiles he plasters on his face all the time to reassure the kids—an illusion of what he remembers his real smile being like once upon a time. “I don’t know why he showed mercy on me when the rest of the lunar settlement suffers. I don’t know why he’s showing mercy after having let my whole family die in a solar storm. I don’t— I’m sorry, that might be too far. I just _don’t understand_.”

And isn’t that an understatement? Victor doesn’t know what’s going on, he doesn’t know how he feels, and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Because he sure as hell knows what he _wants_ to do, but he has a lot more learning to do before he can formulate a plan.

Yuuko just nods, as if that’s the answer she expected. “Yuuri can be a little… obtuse. But there’s more to some of his stories than meets the eye.”

Victor sighs, then gives a humorless laugh. “That’s pretty much what Phichit said, too. I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what went on, will you?”

She shrugs. “It’s complicated. I think no one knows the full story besides Yuuri and his mentor—though I could jump to conclusions. Consider it a test of sorts.”

Victor frowns, looking at the floor for a moment, and then back up at Yuuko. “A test? Of what? _For_ what?”

“For whatever you’re here to get from us, or to ask for. Oh, don’t look so surprised.” Yuuko rolls her eyes. “You just told me you think that Yuuri had a hand in killing your parents. This isn’t a place you want to be for fun.”

Victor’s shoulders tense. “Does that mean you think I’m a threat now?”

She snorts. “No. You aren’t reeking of malicious intent, and humans are terrible at hiding it. I just had to provoke you to see what would happen.” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees. “Though you raised a question I’d hoped you’d be able to help me answer. Do you really not know what Yuuri wants with you here? Why did he let you come?”

“He didn’t tell you, either?” Well then, if he didn’t tell his guard, who has to be around Yuuri almost all the time, it looks like there’s no way to get it but from the horse’s mouth. Wonderful.

“He didn’t tell _you_?” Both of her eyebrows raise, and she shoots him a skeptical look. “He just picked you up and brought you here without a word?”

Yuuri might as well have, but Victor doesn’t dare voice that thought aloud. Instead, he shrugs. “I was begging to get off of that moon because they would kill me if I went back, and I offered to do anything in return. But the only thing he showed interest in was my dancing.”

Yuuko’s eyes widen a bit. “You dance?”

“I… Well, I used to.” Victor glances down, folding his hands in his lap. “I was trained in many styles when I was little, and then The Eclipse happened, and— Well, it doesn’t matter now. But I’ve tried to keep up practice when I can.”

“You really love it, then?” Yuuko leans back, crossing her arms. “Dancing?”

Victor nods, no hesitation. “I’ve never felt more beautiful and free than when I’m in motion. I’m too old and stiff to really go after my dream anymore, though. And— Yuuri can’t be _blind_. Look at me.” Victor gestures at himself.

Yuuko gives a huff of a laugh. “Oh, I have. I think I know what he sees in you; Yuuri’s a bit of an impulsive person, you see. So he tends to avoid things until he can’t anymore…” She trails off for a moment, staring at the wall. “I’m curious, would you like to do some dancing or even just some stretches? I know I’d be antsy if I were you, and then you’ll know where the dance room is.”

Victor can’t help how his eyes light up. A _room_ just for _dancing_. He hasn’t had that luxury in ages. And honestly, he’s still tired and sore and exhausted in ways he’s never really felt before, but his answer is clear despite all that. “Yes. Yes, please. And thank you.”

She gives a small, earnest smile as she rises to her feet. “Then get up and freshen up and we’ll be off. Sound good?”

Victor nods, so quickly he reminds himself of an overeager dog. She laughs as she leaves the room and leaves him to it.

Honestly, with how fresh Victor feels after changing and cleaning up, he begins to think that maybe the triplets saying he was smelly the other day has a point. Not that they _had_ to tell him that. It’s funny, Takeshi and Yuuko both seem nice so far, but their children on the other hand…

Victor pauses as he tugs on a shimmering white shirt. It’s finer than anything he’s worn in a while, finer than anything he and the kids own.

His chest aches at the thought of them alone, bickering over food and supplies while they’re stuck in that eternal winter. They deserve better than this. They all do.

Which is what he’s going to do here. He can go and check out this dance room, yes, but he can’t get too distracted.

After he’s done practicing for a bit, reminding his body how it could once move, he’s finding Yuuri.

His heart does an odd little flip at that, and he assumes it’s dread or grief for his parents—but it feels a lot like excitement, too.

This time the halls are a lot less overwhelming as Yuuko leads him through them. Here there are works of art or landmarks among the swaying, glowing greenery. Alien things that Victor can’t put a name to—but he’ll sure as hell remember how to find his way to this room again.

“Here we are.” Yuuko slides open a door and—

_Oh_.

The room is tall, impossibly so—Victor’s sure that if you stacked three of him on top of each other, he still wouldn’t brush the ceiling. An entire wall is made up of water, just like Victor’s room. But this room doesn’t look out onto shallow waters, instead dropping off and into an endless, blue abyss. A school of purple and gold fish skitter by a little ways out, and in the distance looms the great shape of a whale.

But that’s not what makes Victor’s chest ache. What hurts so deeply is how Victor’s breath hitches as he toes off his shoes and feels the utterly smooth and perfect surface of the hardwood against his socks, not having the right sort of shoes for this kind of room. It’s the way that the cool metal of the barre both comfort sand burns as he walks up and runs his hand along it, familiar yet so strange to hands that have grown and changed since he’s last touched one. And it’s how he looks up at the mirror and finds his eyes wide and full of emotion in a way that he just _hasn’t felt_ since he was smaller and could express himself in the grace of his limbs and the lightness of his feet.

It chips away at Victor. It cracks, and it burns.

Victor wants more.

“Is it to your liking?” Yuuko calls across the wide room, not daring to step farther in for some reason—probably the harder soles of her shoes.

Victor nods, clearing his throat to try and empty it of emotion. “Yes. It’s beautiful.”

It’s bright, and open, and inspiring in a way that Victor would have dreamed of seeing on other planets and in other galaxies.

But that time has long come and gone. The grace and flexibility of his body has grown into something more practical and supportive. Something strong enough to carry and support the weight of two other lives on his back.

Little did he know he’d have to work to bring back some of his softness to do just that.

“Then why don’t you show me what you’ve got?” Yuuko crosses her arms, grinning. “I used to dance a bit with Yuuri when he was younger. I want to see what enraptured him so much that he brought you back.”

Victor can’t help but grin a little. “Am I disappointing you so far?”

She barks out a laugh. “I haven’t made up my mind! But Yuuri doesn’t let people in, not like this. I want to see what you can offer him. So, what’ve you got?”

Victor nods again, this time thoughtful. It’s been a long time since he’s done any of this for any reason other than to have a little fun, and it takes a moment to dredge up the memories and slowly run himself through stretches and simple moves to limber up.

His flexibility and strength are abysmal, but that’s to be expected. Those are things he can work on—that he’s expected to work on, going by what Yuuri said yesterday. Assuming it was even yesterday—Victor’s not sure how long it will take to recover from whatever happened. All he knows is that Phichit mentioned something about his lungs collapsing, and he doesn’t even want to think about that.

So instead, he moves. He lets his body fall into motions that never quite died alongside his childhood, the routine and memory of them too deeply ingrained in his mind. His muscles burn as his body bends, and though it’s in part frustrating because Victor used to be so _good_ at this, it’s also deeply satisfying in a way he hasn’t felt in so long.

He falls into bits and pieces of old routines as easy as breathing, following a melody that plays in his head and nowhere else. He switches between styles and forms, weaving emotions and stories in the sweeping of his arm, or the kick of his leg, or the graceful leaps he takes across the floor.

He could do this forever.

He knows that he can’t, of course. First because he’s already exhausted even though he’s nowhere near the limits that he used to have, and second because one day, he’ll leave this place.

Something heavy and chilled by melancholy settles in his chest as he slows his movements, expressing the feeling and the thought more honestly than he has in years.

This isn’t a new sacrifice. Victor had continued to try and keep up dancing after his family had died, going so far as to contact his old teacher. But no one cared for art and beauty in such a grim time.

And now there are the kids to think about. He can dance as much as he needs to so that he can gain Yuuri’s favor and get what he needs, but eventually he’ll take the kids to a new planet. Maybe he can dance for fun there, but he’ll still have to work and to cook and to clean…

Victor’s legs shake beneath him, ready to give up and give out long before his mind is—but he knows well how devastating it can be to push yourself too much and too fast.

Instead he twirls to a stop, arms wrapped around himself desperately, looking for a comfort he cannot give and has no one else to give to him.

Victor will be alright, though. He has the kids. He’ll have safety. He doesn’t need dance or warm brown eyes or—

He shakes his head, desperately pushing away those thoughts. It isn’t _fair_ that anyone can be that alluring. Victor would blame it on being a god or immortal or something along those lines, but he’s seen three other people who say they aren’t mortal and he hasn’t had the same reaction. It’s silly.

It still makes something in his chest sting sharply, though.

With a sigh, Victor drops his arms and the illusion of comfort. The light’s slanted differently through the window, and there’s no one where Yuuko was leaning against the wall.

But as Victor turns to the door Victor catches a hint of movement, a trail of fabric pulled quickly through and around the door. And it isn’t the heavy gold and bright colors of what Yuuko was wearing.

It’s a deep, dark blue that’s trimmed in glowing silver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Important Uptade!** This fic is switching to posting every other week (another fic will fill the gaps). [Here's a short summary as to what's going on over on Twitter.](https://twitter.com/Kazul9/status/1296987335943434242)
> 
> My name is Bacon and I'm here to say BAMF Yuuko RIGHTS
> 
> As always, thank you so, so, so much for taking the time to read this fic! And a special thanks to Dachi and [Tess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewalrus_said/pseuds/thewalrus_said) for constantly needing to reassure me that this fic _isn't_ awful and I shouldn't toss the whole thing since chapter one aksdnaksjdn


	4. Chapter 4

Victor would never have claimed that his plan is a straightforward one. In fact, he wouldn’t even say he has so much of a _plan_ as he does a _goal_.

He needs to get the kids out of the settlement, off that moon, and somewhere safe. He can’t do that by himself, so he’s going to make the god of their solar system help him out by winning him over. Somehow. Maybe with dance? The plan is a work in progress. Victor needs to learn more about this god before planning any further.

But as the days pass and Victor slowly begins to lose count of them, he doesn’t even see so much of a glimpse of Yuuri.

Not that he really _tries_ much the first few days. He spends a lot of his time practicing and training to build up his strength, telling himself that he’s doing it because it’s what he said he’d do to earn Yuuri’s favor.

But really, he just wants to spend a little time dancing for himself like he used to, before his life fell apart around him and he couldn’t anymore. And it fills him with a bit of resentment, too.

He he never would have had to give this up if it weren’t for this god’s negligence. If Victor’s parents had survived, if he were able to have more than just vague memories, his life would be _entirely_ different.

Victor had known he would become the company’s heir, that his dancing wouldn’t have become his life. He probably wouldn’t have enjoyed the work in his family’s company too much, but he still would have been able to dance from time to time. He would have been fed, and clothed warmly—not starving in rags.

There’s something that burns in Victor at the thought of that, of a future that he thought was inevitable, his _fate_ , being slaughtered and gutted before his eyes.

And for a while, he lets that be his excuse for why he’s avoiding Yuuri. Because he can’t control himself. Because his emotions are unstable.

But he knows he’s just putting it off.

So when he’s recovered enough to not be as tired, some muscle and weight back on his frame, he starts to look for Yuuri.

He runs into Phichit most days, and Victor will often find himself playing cards with the god, more often than not with the little furry creatures from his planet that he’s brought over. They’re tiny little rodent-like things that come in all different shapes, sizes, and colors, and Phichit does raise a very valid point that they’re adorable and cuddly and Victor gladly lets himself get covered by them at every given opportunity.

But _that_ usually draws in the triplets.

Victor’s not sure how they constantly manage to find him and Phichit, but oh, they are _very_ good at it. They love to snuggle and play with the little creatures, and the creatures seem to love the girls back, which means that Victor gets less cuddling time with them. He pretends not to pout about that, but Phichit laughs at him too often for him to think he gets away with it.

At least that typically brings along Yuuko or Takeshi—sometimes both of them, and they’ll usually end up eating the next meal together, chaotic but nice in a familiar way even if it makes Victor miss his kids.

Yuuko has taken him to her training grounds a few times to see if any of her equipment would be useful to him, but honestly he gets a little spooked at her collection of blades, and guns, and blade-guns. When she notices him staring, her eyes go wide and bright and he spends an entire day thoroughly understanding and coming to fear all of the many thousands of ways that Yuuko could kill him if she wanted to.

Victor tries to avoid her invitations back there from then on, even if it is a triplet-free zone.

Takeshi tends to come more hand-in-hand with the triplets, but sometimes it’s nice to go and help him out in the kitchens for a bit. Victor falls into the familiar motions of chopping and stirring, all surrounded by the chaos of living with others. Except here, he’s not constantly worried about how much food he has left to work with, he doesn’t have to listen to Minami and Yura bicker about their limited money and how best to spend it. There’s a level of anxiety missing that sometimes makes Victor _more_ anxious about that kind of thing than if it were actually happening around him.

It’s one of those days for Victor, now. He knows where to find Phichit if he wants to play card games—on Thursdays he’s always in the greenhouse. It’s one of Victor’s favorite places to be, surrounded by gentle birdsong and the hum of insects as green blooms around him in a way he hasn’t seen since he was very young—but he can’t sit still, not today. Because once he stops, he doesn’t know if he can keep going.

He can keep wandering and hope to run into Yuuko—her armory would _certainly_ get Victor out of his own head. But she’s unpredictable, with no set schedule that Victor’s found. It makes sense, considering she apparently guards Yuuri, but why is she away from him so much? Victor’s tried to ask before where Yuuri is, or why he’s safe right now, but the vague answers and threatening smiles he gets in return aren’t helpful.

And with Takeshi and the triplets… He can’t think about home right now. Even if the kids _should_ be fine, Victor doesn’t know that. He’s been taking too long up here, and he absolutely has been procrastinating. It’s nice here; Phichit is smart and fun, the triplets are always a laugh, Takeshi is soft and understanding, and Yuuko is sharp as a tack. You can really tell that they’re a family of sorts.

And Victor needs to stop getting so attached to anyone who shows him kindness. He has an actual family to protect and save from horrible circumstances. Questionable gods that seem like good people on the outside aren’t worth risking them.

So Victor decides to explore a little today.

Yuuri had told him that he can go anywhere and no one has told him otherwise, so Victor wanders. After all, with Yuuko and her arsenal that could equip a small army, there’s probably nothing dangerous lurking in the palace.

In fact, Victor hasn’t seen anywhere outside of the palace. He has no idea what kind of planet this is, other than that it has water and life on it. And now that he’s thinking about it, Victor can’t help but be curious.

At first he follows old instinct and habit, following the gleaming black passages down into the deep abyss of the palace. And, strangely, it gets warmer as he goes further down. The air gets heavier and harder to breathe—and Victor doesn’t like it. Before long it strikes him that he’s being an _idiot_ , and the exit to the palace would probably be at the top anyway. He’s _seen_ the blue-green glass glowing with sunlight above the greenhouse; if there’s an exit, it would have to be there.

So Victor turns around and climbs his way up.

Most everyone seems to spend their time toward the top of the palace, so Victor keeps a careful ear out. He avoids Takeshi’s humming once, narrowing makes it out of the way before the quick shuffling of Phichit’s footsteps sound behind him. The giggling and shouting of the triplets almost seem to follow him everywhere, even if he doesn’t see them—the only one that he doesn’t hear a peep from is Yuuko, but she’s the one person that Victor knows he has absolutely no chance of escaping.

But if she knows what he’s up to, she doesn’t interfere. He doesn’t dare to assume that his exploration has gone unnoticed, though. It’s not like he has anything to hide—it’s not like he was lying to Yuuko the other day.

Victor may be unsure of how he feels about the god of this solar system, he may not be sure why his parents’ death is haunting him so suddenly and so intensely, but he’s not here to harm the god. Hehas something he wants, and he doesn’t need to hurt anyone to get it, so he won’t. Even if Yuuri isn’t his favorite person, hurting him means hurting the others, and they’ve been nothing but kind to Victor.

Honestly… Everyone here has been kinder to Victor than most people he grew up with have been toward him in _years._

And that includes Yuuri.

Yes, he’s avoiding Victor, but he’s not casting him out or trying to hide his kindness from his friends. He’s not ashamed of Victor being here like anyone who’s shown him mercy was. Victor isn’t a blight in his home. Even when he met Yuuri, he was taking care of Victor, healing his wounds and helping him out of an impossible situation.

It makes both what Phichit and Yuuko have said to Victor haunt him. That there’s more to Yuuri than what there seems to be. Because it makes no sense that he would just abandon so many people to the most brutal elements of space and themselves…

And yet save only Victor, out of all those people.

Not that Victor’s ungrateful to still be alive, of course. But his parents, and Minami, and Yura—

Victor turns a corner and suddenly he can’t see. After the delicate lighting of the dark hallway, after years upon years of only seeing light through a shrouded sun, Victor walks into pure, unfiltered sunlight.

He’d thought that it had been warm against his skin down in the greenhouse and in his room, but it _burns_ against his pale skin now, making his eyes water. But he slowly starts to make out the archway that he stands in the middle of, not able to take it in as he sees the _sun_. It’s huge—though they aren’t as close as Victor would have thought. And had the sun really always been this bright?

Honestly, Victor’s not entirely sure he likes it. Though it’s better than an eternal winter, he can’t argue that, it’s _overwhelming_. Bright, and hot—and sticky, too. The air is heavy up here with moisture like it was down deep in the palace, and Victor considers turning back around for a brief moment.

He knows that he needs to look out here, that it’s the point of exploring to, well, _explore_. But something is clamped down tight around his chest, making his breaths come a little quicker and he’s not even sure _why_.

For a moment he focuses on breathing through the odd feeling, and then turns his attention to his surroundings, to the intricate carvings of leaves and flowers all over the archway, the pale rainbow of stones and sand that stretch out from the small stairs he stands at the top of. Jagged, curled pillars of the same dark stone that make up the inside of the palace rise into the air in what looks to be natural formations, but Victor’s no expert in that—not when it comes to the work of a god. Draped over them are vines and small plants, blooming into intricate flowers of all shapes and sizes and colors. The sun on his skin is hot, yes, but it’s not an unpleasant feeling.

In fact, it almost feels like a part of him sighs in relief at the warmth and the light after so long in the darkness. And as the strange pressure around Victor’s ribcage subsides, his heartbeat picks up a little. He’s outside, and he’s not wearing a coat and he’s not freezing. And there’s something on the air that’s… odd? Salty and… _odd_.

Victor steps onto the rocks, listening to them grinding together with something bubbling and light filling him. Birdsong that he’s never heard before rings through the air as Victor steps further outside, and a slight breeze ruffles his hair, refreshing instead of frigid.

He closes his eyes and lets it sink in for a moment longer, taking a deep breath and then opening his eyes and forging ahead, wandering among the rocks and the flowers. Sometimes he stops to touch and to smell the fresh greenery.

It’s strange how just seeing _greenery_ is so new even though he’s seen it in the indoor fields that the settlement has managed to construct to grow enough to live off of. Those small, desperate plants reaching for the artificial light are nothing like this, though. Victor was born in the settlement, and all he remembers of greenery was watching the young forests grow across the planet as he did.

And then how it stopped with The Eclipse.

Victor’s steps slow, and then he turns a corner and he stops.

There are no plants in front of him that he can see, only a few more pillars dotting here and there between him and the horizon. The rocks disappear, and over them rushes wave after wave of water, lapping at the shore.

Victor’s seen pictures of oceans before—there are still old, outdated advertisements for vacations on planets with tropical islands and other exotic things that are almost unimaginable to a small set of people on a tiny moon twirling around a gas giant. And though, reasonably, Victor knew it was big, he underestimated the vastness of it. It makes him feel the same way as looking out into the empty horizon of snow on his moon, except more. Because this goes out as far as the eye can see, same as the giant plains on the moon, but those Victor could walk across as far as he wanted. He thought about doing it a few times, just wandering until he couldn’t wander anymore.

But this goes out, and it goes down. Whereas the snow only displayed the remnants of a nearly dead moon, this holds life, so many creatures and maybe even monsters beyond Victor’s imagination. He could try and swim, see how far he gets, but either he would get tired, or he would get eaten.

It probably shouldn’t be so exciting to imagine something so dangerous, but Victor can’t help his intake of breath at the thought of standing before _this_. Before he even realizes he’s moving and there’s warm water rushing against his ankles and—oh, his shoes are soaked. Well, nothing to be done about it now.

Victor steps farther and farther out, the water rising up his legs. It’s so _warm_. For most of his life, getting wet while outside meant that Victor needed to get inside fast or that he was as good as dead. But Victor could lay out on the shore, take off his shoes and even his pants and dry off in the _sun_.

It’s unreal even as he looks at, as he smells it, as he _feels_ it, shuffling slowly farther and farther—

Until there’s a growl behind him.

Victor freezes.

The moon where he lives has no natural life—it only has the _potential_ for it. So Victor’s never encountered anything dangerous other than nature itself, and other humans. Both of which are bad enough, but compared to something that makes a sound as _deep_ and as _loud_ as that?

Victor takes another breath and it shakes as he lets it out. Okay, maybe he can try something, even if it’s just screaming for Yuuko. Or maybe he just imagined the noise completely, maybe it’s all in his mind.

He turns, slowly moving his head, and then his torso, and—

 _Oh_.

It’s a _dog_.

Which doesn’t sum it up well considering that it’s a dog that’s as tall as Victor and has horns and wickedly curved claws and Victor doesn’t even want to _know_ about the fangs inside its mouth. Her eyes are as dark as the stone walls of the palace, unblinking as she stands there and looks at Victor. But she has _curly fur_ and _floppy ears_ and yes, she looks terrifying and like she could kill him, but _she’s a dog_.

Victor takes a tentative step closer, trying to make out the color of her coat. It might be black or a deep brown, but it’s hard to tell with the glowing specks of gold in her fur, shimmering like the stars. It reflects a bit in her eyes as he shuffles closer, heart beating in his throat, like her eyes hold a galaxy in them.

And once Victor reaches the point where the water’s only around his ankles, close enough to hear the giant dog’s breathing, she shuffles on her feet, sits down, and gives a soft _boof_.

A smile spreads wide across Victor’s face, maybe the biggest he’s ever had. He walks forward, gently digging his fingers in the soft fur around her cheeks, and her tail wags even faster as Victor coos. “Oh, what a _good girl_.”

Victor has _always_ wanted a dog. They’re a luxury, one that very few people can afford—one that he would have been able to afford if his parents had lived. He’d heard them talk in whispers about getting him one for his birthday, seeing how he doted on the little stuffed animal he had with that ridiculous name…

“Makkachin!” Victor blurts out as the beautiful girl in front of him opens her mouth and starts panting and _wow_ her breath doesn’t smell very good—but she’s still wonderful. “I’ll call you Makkachin until I know your real name, okay?”

She boofs softly again, voice rumbly and deep, before she licks Victor from torso to face, dragging his shirt up and making his hair stick in all directions—but also making him giggle like a madman because that _tickles_.

At least until there’s a movement of rock against rock, and the dog—Makkachin—whips her head around to look up on top of one of the pillars of black, to where someone stands.

He’s dressed in robes of royal blue and stunning silver today—what Victor knows for sure was the cloth that he caught a glimpse of that day when he was dancing. And he’s a distance off, but Victor knows that loose black hair and those warm brown eyes. They shouldn’t have struck him as deeply as they did, Yuuri himself said that he would never care for Victor, and he’s shown that’s true by not trying to be his friend like the others have.

But that tugging want burns in him. And he’s not sure whether it’s desperation for the kids, or bitterness for his parents—or something else entirely that he doesn’t dare put words to.

There’s no point in resisting it though, and Victor takes a step away from lovely Makka, blinking slowly to gather himself—

And when he opens his eyes, Yuuri’s gone.

But the distant image of such a sad smile on such a beautiful face remains seared in Victor’s mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I couldn’t help but imagine Victor skipping around in the flowers and rocks like a Disney princess, drawing Makkachin to him with his beautiful singing and dancing
> 
> (Makka actually came out because Victor was reaching the edge of the palace and didn’t know if he could swim, and she protecc all the inhabitants)
> 
> As always, things are a bit crazy on my end with my mom having a rough time recovering from surgery, my own medical condition swinging around wildly, and 2020 in general, but! Thank you so, so much to everyone giving this a read! And thank you to Dachi and Tess for being my dream team of an alpha and a beta, respectively :D <3


	5. Chapter 5

Victor searches across the island—turns out it’s not too large, maybe about the span of the palace beneath—but he finds no trace of Yuuri.

Not that he’s surprised. Yuuri’s managed to completely avoid him so far, and Victor is in _his_ solar system. If Yuuri doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. There’s another island not too far off, maybe within swimming distance if he can figure out how to swim—it can’t be that hard, right? But Makkachin gently grabs his shirt in her teeth when he steps toward the water with that intent, and it’s probably better to trust the terrifying space dog than not.

So he gives her a good pet and decides to go back inside, walking back to the archway.

By the time he steps into it, he notices that Makka isn’t following him around anymore. He tries not to be disappointed about that, but maybe the dog only lives up here, guarding the palace entrance. Victor can visit her again tomorrow. For now, he’s starving, and at least he now knows Yuuri actually exists, that the god isn’t some figment of his imagination.

So he spends the rest of the day pestering the people who don’t mind being around him, trying to take his mind off the day’s events until the sun sets and he heads back to his room for a nice, peaceful sleep.

Or, well, that _was_ the plan. As Victor settles into bed that night, the room dark save for the dim light filtering through the water, there’s a great crash.

Victor sits up, turning toward the wall of water in time to see that it has exploded forward, reaching toward Victor, about to soak him—

But it’s frozen. Like he’s looking at an image on a screen, a model of a splash.

With something large and dark at the center.

Victor barely manages to make a strangled squeak of a sound before the water starts to recede in an unnatural sort of rippling effect, absorbing back into the wall of water and only leaving the big black mass in its wake, coming at Victor so fast that he doesn’t even have time to raise his arms to protect or brace himself before it _slams_ into him.

And starts slobbering all over him?

Victor splutters and flails for a moment as he tries to make sense of things. Then his fingers find soft, curly fur that he’d only felt for the first time earlier that day. Not to mention how distinctive that _breath_ is.

“Makkachin!” Victor laughs as he pushes the large dog off him, and he’s lucky when she decides to oblige him because there’s no way would he win in a test of strength against a beast this size. “I thought you wouldn’t come down here! And instead you _swam_ down here? What a _good girl_ you are.”

Makkachin _boofs_ softly, tail wagging while she licks Victor again before climbing up into his bed and plopping down, taking up more than half of it.

Not that Victor really minds. When he snuggles in with the big dog, it’s still more comfortable than his bed back home. Not to mention that there’s something about laying down next to something warm and alive and just as sleepy as he is, something so settling in the deep, rhythmic breaths next to Victor that he can’t help but drift off into one of the most restful night’s sleep that he’s had in a long, long time.

At least until he wakes up. His entire body _hurts_ , as if his skin is burning and too tight against his bones. Even the touch of Makka’s soft, sparkling fur is too much, and he scrambles away and hits the floor with a groan.

As he rights himself, he sees the red of his arms and his shoulders, brighter than it’s ever been before.

He scowls.

_Sunburn_.

Victor has vague memories of being sensitive to it when he was a child, of his parents slathering him up to try and protect him from it, but it’s somehow _worse_ after years of going without having to feel it.

He eyes the wall of water, knowing it’s cooler than the air, but he remembers the smell of salt on it yesterday, and _that_ can’t be pleasant on his burning skin.

Makka takes her time to thoroughly stretch and let Victor lament the fate he’s going to have to suffer for the next few days—even if it Is his own fault for not thinking about it—before she jumps down and gently nudges her nose against his chest. At least he’d kept his shirt on yesterday, because it doesn’t seem to hurt where his skin was covered.

“Be gentle with me, please.” Victor reaches up and digs his fingers into the fur around her ears, making her raise one of her back feet and twitch it a little. Victor’s not sure that the dog can understand him, but it’s not like anyone’s around to witness him being a dumbass if she can’t. Besides, it’s kind of nice. She’s just a dog; there’s nothing he has to figure out or worry about with her. She’s obviously taken a liking to him, and he’s taken a liking to her.

Maybe Victor’s being a little ridiculous right now. He doubts anything is really _safe_ in a god’s home. But he just… It’s nice to have her around. Nothing can fill the gap that leaving the kids behind created in him, but there’s something in the dog that makes him feel that gentle warmth he’d felt with the kids, huddled around their heater as they poked at and teased each other.

Makkachin pulls away a bit, whining and tilting her head in a wordless question.

“I’ll be alright.” Victor tries to grin at her, but it’s gotten to his _cheeks_ , too—and now that he thinks about it, his forehead is all tight and burning. This is _hell_. “It’s just sunburn, don’t worry. I’ll suffer from it for a few days, and then I’ll never go outside ever again in my life. It’s fine.”

She whines again, ears turned forward for a moment before letting out a low _boof_ and trotting out the door—which Victor was pretty sure was closed just a moment ago?

Well, it doesn’t matter. Victor’s going to be boring to hang around today anyway. Maybe a cool shower might help? But that would mean getting up…

Victor lets out a long sigh, letting himself luxuriate in the fact that Yura’s not dragging him from bed, Minami already more chipper than even Victor—a self-proclaimed morning person—as he chatters their ears off.

So maybe Victor doesn’t miss _everything_ about them…

But they’ll be together again soon. Even if they part ways again eventually—these boys have been stuck for so long, Victor can see them both wanting to explore the known galaxies in their own way—at least when Victor’s free of this he can find ways to just talk with them, know they’re okay.

He might miss them now, but it’ll be worth it.

There’s a scraping of claws against stone, and Victor perks up a little as he turns. “Oh, Makka! You came back, I—”

Victor almost chokes on his tongue.

Makka’s there, prancing around a bit with her mouth open happily, ears perked and tail wagging. But she isn’t alone. Next to her is none other than the god that Victor’s been searching for:

Yuuri.

After all that work, after spending so much time trying to track him down, he’s just _here_? Victor’s half-tempted to jump to his feet and demand why he brought Victor here and then immediately disappeared, but he can’t. Not when Yuuri’s standing there like _that_.

Today he’s in black robes that help to accentuate his lithe form, shimmering a bit in the dim light with quick flashes of crimson showing as they settle around him. But, more importantly, his hair is pushed back.

Victor’s not sure how such a small change can make so much of a difference, but he’s as speechless as the first time he’d knelt in front of Yuuri, half-frozen and surrounded by snow. Yuuri’s wide, beautiful eyes are on display behind a set of spectacles, his long, black eyelashes lowered a bit as he takes in Victor on the floor before they grow wide, the warm brown almost sparkling in concern.

All the anger and resentment that had been hardening inside of Victor melts away at the sight. And it’s ridiculous how just a bit of kindness and a beautiful face seems to be capable of bringing Victor to his knees like this—both literally and metaphorically, both times—because this has never happened to Victor before. Not like this. He can appreciate an attractive face, but he’s never felt _this_. How he goes quiet in a way that’s unsettling but almost _peaceful_ in his presence. Maybe peaceful isn’t the right word, but there’s a contentedness in him that he’s never felt elsewhere.

Victor doesn’t like it.

At least that’s what he tries to tell himself.

“Are you listening? Is your hearing alright?” Yuuri kneels in front of Victor, and he’s so struck by the fact that Yuuri is somehow a bit shorter than him, even though he’s a _god_ , even though his presence is so immense, that he doesn’t notice that Yuuri’s hands are reaching for his face until they almost make contact.

Victor pulls away, ignoring the part of him that wants the touch.

Yuuri pulls back suddenly, as if burned, recoiling against one of Makkachin’s thick, fuzzy legs. “I-I’m sorry. I just— You weren’t responding. I won’t touch you if you don’t tell me it’s allowed. I can leave. The hound just got me and said it was urgent, I’m sorry.”

Yuuri apologizes an awful lot for a god.

“No, it’s not that.” Though it really should be that. Victor _should_ be disgusted by the god that left him and his kids to starve. But the way he makes Victor _feel_ , and what Phichit and Yuuko have said… Victor lets out a breath. “I have sunburn. Everywhere. It hurts to touch it.”

Yuuri arches an eyebrow, the small smirk on his face making something flutter in Victor’s stomach. “Everywhere?”

“Well!” Victor clears his throat, glancing up at Makka like she’ll give him any mercy. She predictably just pants and waves her tail a little faster under Victor’s attention. “Mostly just my arms and my face.”

Yuuri lets out a breath and nods. “Okay. Then will you take off your shirt?”

Victor’s fingers grab ahold of his hem before he even really thinks about it. “Wait— Why?”

“Because I might be able to help you. I want to see the extent of it. Come on.” Yuuri reaches a hand down to Victor, palm open.

And Victor can’t help but take it.

Yuuri pulls him up with a hand even stronger and steadier than Victor had expected, and Victor is almost sad when he lets go. He quickly turns his focus instead to stripping off of his shirt, tossing it onto the bed.

Victor knows that he’s been putting on healthy weight, that with the exercise that comes with his dancing practice, he looks better than he has in a long time. But it’s one thing for him to know he’s attractive, and it’s another thing entirely for someone else to look at him and appreciate him like this.

Yuuri’s gaze doesn’t only stay on Victor’s neck and face and arms. Victor would have to be blind to miss how Yuuri’s eyes trail over his chest and his stomach. His expression doesn’t change, though. His face stays stern and entirely focused, as if memorizing or analyzing every inch of skin.

Eventually, Yuuri moves around Victor, just as silent behind him as in front. Victor can’t help the warmth he feels spreading across the bridge of his nose at the idea of just being on _display_ like this. It isn’t like Yuuri seems to be looking at him in an objectifying way, but it’s still _intense_ and—

“I want to touch you.” Yuuri’s voice sounds quiet and close to Victor’s ear, and Victor tries—and mostly fails—to restrain his shivering. “It won’t hurt. I won’t ever hurt you. Is it okay if I touch?”

Victor wants to say that Yuuri can touch anything that he wants, but he shoves that part to the back of his brain before it can escape. “Okay.”

And then Yuuri’s hands are on him, and Victor flinches reflexively, expecting it to irritate the burn. But it doesn’t. Victor distinctly remembers Yuuri cupping his face when he first woke up in this palace, remembers the gentle warmth of it. This time there isn’t warmth, but instead a soothing coolness spreading from Yuuri’s touch, the tenseness in Victor’s shoulders going lax as he leans into Yuuri’s hands, Yuuri chuckling softly.

Then another moment passes and Yuuri lets out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, I can’t— All I can do is temporarily ease your pain. I might have something else that would help in the gardens, if you’re willing.”

“Anything to get rid of this burning.” Victor gestures vaguely at his crisp skin.

Yuuri clicks his tongue as he walks around Victor, but there’s a tentative smile on his face, teasing if almost shy as he continues out the door. “You really let yourself get burned up pretty bad.”

“I didn’t know!” Victor follows Yuuri, Makkachin trailing them both. “It’s not like we get a lot of sun on that moon.”

Yuuri goes quiet at that, and Victor doesn’t miss the way that his shoulders bunch up.

Victor could break the silence, but he chooses not to. It’s not like he doesn’t have enough questions to ask, but there’s a tenseness to this quiet that Victor doesn’t dare broach.

Instead, he watches Yuuri ahead of him. The sway of his robes is graceful, almost unsettlingly slow. They aren’t moving at a breakneck pace, but still Yuuri’s movements are controlled, too graceful to be natural. He steps with little sound, but to a firm rhythm and melody that Victor can almost hear.

Yuuri’s a dancer, too.

Victor’s heart flips a little in his chest, and the _want_ rises in him once again—but something different, and more focused than ever before. He wants to see Yuuri dance. He wants to see those robes fly out around him, see how that grace and beauty wraps into music and draws out the emotion of it.

Maybe he could even dance with Yuuri.

Yuuri pushes through the door to the gardens, and the green light and heavy, humid air, thick with the earthy scent of wet soil breaks through Victor’s thoughts. They traverse the smooth, winding stone paths that wrap through the growth of green and purple and blue, past the rainbows of flowers until they come to a corner with more plain plants, nothing that really stands out. But Yuuri walks up to one of the larger succulents, spending a moment touching and assessing before breaking off a large section of it.

Which immediately starts oozing something thick and clear.

“It’s a simple way to help and it won’t cure it, but the best I can do on such short notice.” Yuuri’s eyes stay on the plant, unable—or unwilling—to look up. “I’ll just spread this on your skin—unless you want to do it?”

“You can do it.” The words come out of Victor’s mouth rough, and he clears his throat. Maybe it isn’t the _best_ idea, but Yuuri’s touch helps, and Victor wants it. He might as well indulge when he has the opportunity, right?

Yuuri looks up at him, eyes wide and unbelieving through his glasses until a small smile spreads across his face. “Okay.”

And he steps forward and starts smearing the gel across Victor’s skin.

Yuuri’s hands are gentle but thorough, covering every inch of Victor’s skin. He’s not sure if he likes it at first, but between the cool of Yuuri’s touch and the soothing relief of whatever that plant is, Victor relaxes into Yuuri’s caresses. He’s so delicate with Victor, like something to be valued and not some stray creature plucked off the street. Like there’s a part of Yuuri that cares for him, even though they’ve never met before.

Which is ridiculous, because Yuuri himself essentially said he was an uncaring bastard the first time Victor met him.

Yuuri’s hands move around Victor’s neck and he can’t help but melt and moan softly, both at the relief and the touch. It’s ridiculous because Victor can only imagine all the myriad ways that Yuuri might kill him at any moment, and it it comes with a feeling of deep, bone-rattling vulnerability.

And yet Victor’s not frightened at all.

Victor blinks his eyes open, watching the intense focus that Yuuri has on his face, as if he owes Victor something when the opposite is true. And Victor can’t help but once again wonder why.

But this time, at least, Victor doesn’t have to try and hunt down Yuuri to answer his questions. In fact, he’s pinned down taking care of Victor. So Victor doesn’t hesitate. He asks, “Aren’t I supposed to dance for you?”

Yuuri’s attention snaps to Victor, his hands tightening against Victor’s skin—but never gripping too tight. “You can do whatever you like. Yuuko tells me you use the studio and if you’d rather dance for yourself, that’s fine.”

Victor scoffs slightly, trying and failing to hide his offense. “Then why are you letting me stay here? What am I to you? Just some sort of pet?”

“You’re not anything of mine. You live in my solar system, but you’re you.” Yuuri turns back to his work, the concern falling from his face as his focus returns. “All I want is for you to be Victor.”

“ _What_?” What is Victor besides a starving orphan, trying his best to take care of other orphans so that they might have a chance at life? The only reason that Victor’s here is to use Yuuri and get the kids off of the planet. Is that what Yuuri wants? To see the desperation that Victor’s been forced into? To see the husk of a man that used to have the time to dream before he could only live his life for other people?

“Well, I don’t know you very well, but everyone here adores you.” Yuuri smiles a little as he brushes his thumbs along Victor’s cheekbones. “It makes me feel like I know you a little myself. It’s enough to know you’ve brought more value than I can repay by just being you.”

Victor’s breath catches in his throat and tears burn at his eyes and he doesn’t know _why_. He’s been trying to charm everyone here, hasn’t he? So obviously he’s succeeded, and that’s good.

But Victor really _likes_ everyone he’s met here. Phichit, Yuuko, Takeshi, and the girls are so full of life, they remind him of having a family. Not that the kids aren’t his family. He would give his life for them—may _be_ giving his life for them, if things go horribly wrong. But it’s just… It’s nice to be supported. To be known and accepted in a way that he hasn’t had in longer than he can remember.

“Anyway, that’s beside the point.” Yuuri raises an eyebrow a little as he meets Victor’s eyes. “Because I didn’t kidnap you. You asked to come here.”

Victor opens his mouth for a moment, then shuts it.

Yuuri smirks at him.

Victor huffs. “Okay, I did ask you to take me. But I’m still stuck here. I have no way to _leave_.”

Yuuri raises both his eyebrows. “You never asked.”

“I— What?” Victor doesn’t stutter, he doesn’t _splutter_ , but Yuuri seems to be inspiring new things in him.

Yuuri’s lips twitch. “I would prefer you ask with a ‘please,’ if you don’t mind.”

Victor just stares at him for a moment. Well, Yuuri isn’t wrong. If he goes back, he dies though—Yuuri knows that. But he can’t mean… Unless he does? “What do you mean?”

Yuuri shrugs. “Ask to leave, and I’ll take you wherever you like. Wherever in the galaxy you can think of going to. Or, well, Phichit will take you. I can’t leave my system.”

This is a lot. Victor hadn’t expected to just be _handed_ exactly what he wanted. It doesn’t guarantee that Yuuri would bring the kids along… But is this a trick of some sort? This _is_ the god that avoided him for days and abandoned the life in his solar system to a slow death as the sun continues to stay shrouded. Not to mention, there’s one detail that doesn’t make sense.

“Then why can Phichit leave his solar system if you can’t leave yours?” Victor frowns at Yuuri.

Yuuri looks down again, his hands falling away from Victor’s face. “I don’t have the ability to. That’s all.”

It takes everything in Victor not to chase Yuuri’s touch, to grab his hands and put them back, and he doesn’t like that. Victor hasn’t ever wanted anything as ridiculous as _touch_ before. Though maybe he asked the kids for a lot of hugs…

Besides, he’s stronger than this. He’s set aside all of his own desires for years for Minami and Yura, and that’s not about to change. He’s so close to what they want, what _he_ wants. He needs to focus.

Yuuri’s obviously not telling him the whole truth, the _real_ truth. And he’s not very good at hiding it. And yet Yuuko and Phichit keep telling Victor to give Yuuri a chance. But how can they when Yuuri himself isn’t being honest?

“They say that I should trust you, you know,” Victor murmurs, searching Yuuri’s face for any sign of what he’s thinking beneath it all.

“Who?” Yuuri frowns at Victor, leaning a little closer.

Victor huffs out a laugh. “Everyone! Phichit told me to listen to your side of the story. Yuuko says that you’re a good person—or a good god. The triplets talk about how nice you are, how much they like spending time with you. But when I first met you, you said that you don’t have kindness, you don’t have sympathy, and you don’t love. So which is it? Are you a horrible creature, or someone I can trust?”

Yuuri flinches away, his eyes turned toward the ground. “Don’t. Don’t trust me.”

“Why not?” The words come out of Victor’s mouth almost as a challenge, despite how how desperate and broken it screams in his mind

Yuuri hands clench into fists as he laughs, but there isn’t any happiness in it. “Yuuko told me. About your past, about your… Your parents. Honestly, I don’t even know how you can stand to look at me, much less trust me. If it were me, I would… I don’t know what I’d do, but it wouldn’t be pretty.”

“It wasn’t pretty. Back when it first happened, I—” Victor’s voice breaks, snaps like a twig. Why is he like this? Why can’t he control himself?

“Exactly. I-I tried to stop the solar storm.” Yuuri takes a step away, and Victor doesn’t know if he’s grateful or he hates it. “And I failed. I made it worse. I broke the solar system, and I broke myself. You don’t have to trust me; you shouldn’t.”

Yuuri looks up and meets Victor’s gaze, something in those warm brown eyes gone cold and hard. “I killed your parents. I’m the one that made your life miserable. I’ll talk to Phichit about arranging him to take you somewhere better in a week or two when your skin has healed. I… If you need help, I’ll be here tomorrow morning. If not, come to the garden after lunch and I won’t bother you until you leave. I…”

Yuuri looks away for a moment, and when he looks back, there are tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Victor.”

And then Yuuri turns and walks away, and despite something in Victor clawing and fighting to speak out, to follow him and ask him for more information, he doesn’t move.

Victor lets Yuuri go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon time: Victor’s pale ass burns up like a lobster in the sun, just like me
> 
> (I swear to god I’m trying to move the plot forward but these boys are so DRAMATIC, MY GOD)
> 
> I hope that you're all doing okay out there, and thank you all so, so, SO much for reading!!! <3 I'm a bit depresso today as I had a bad time medically yesterday, but it's always a good vibe to post a new chapter. :D As always, Rae, Dachi, and Tess are heckin' amazing!!!


	6. Chapter 6

Victor knows that, in theory, he doesn’t have to go and see Yuuri the next morning. In fact, he knows that it would be better if he didn’t. Yuuri’s already said that it’s Phichit that will be getting him out of this solar system, and Phichit seemed sympathetic about Yura and Minami. There’s no reason that he shouldn’t just ask Phichit about it, get his plans settled here and now. He doesn’t need to wait until his sunburn is healed; it’s not like it’s critical and needs attention or it won’t heal.

But Victor can’t stop thinking about taking up Yuuri on his offer.

Victor tries to go back to his normal routine after the incident that morning, though it can only be so normal now that he has a giant dog that follows him around everywhere. Not that he’s complaining, even though he doesn’t know how a dog of that size can continue to keep tripping him everywhere he goes.

Phichit, naturally, cackles loudly when he sees what sort of state Victor’s in at lunch, Yuuko’s lips twitching and Takeshi giving a good snort. The triplets don’t laugh, though; they spend the entire meal scolding Victor and telling him the benefits of using sunscreen and the dangers of being out in the sun unprotected, to which Victor listens to gravely—even if it’s somewhat ironic to hear about the dangers of the sun when they and everyone here are close enough to the burning gas ball to get burnt to a crisp and only the protection of a god is what keeps them safe from that much. Which does beg the question of why and how Victor got sunburn in the first place, but he has no idea how any of this god stuff works.

It’s nice to be around them. It feels normal in a way that things haven’t felt in a long time for Victor. And he’s not sure it should. He’d thought he was on good terms with other people at their little lunar settlement before his parents died, but they were quick to prove him wrong in that. And Victor knows much better now, but he can’t say with absolute certainty that Phichit wouldn’t do anything to hurt the kids, so he won’t mention it, not yet.

He can’t understand where their unquestioning trust of Yuuri comes from. Though it’s easy to make guesses from the way that Yuuri acts. Maybe his face is deceptively kind and stunning to a degree that Victor can’t think straight, but his hands are always gentle despite the power lurking beneath. Victor’s never felt any threat in that touch, never felt like Yuuri’s handled him like he’s disposable, unwanted.

Victor almost laughs out loud at that. The god who abandoned him, who admitted that he had a hand in letting his parents die, treats Victor better than friends he grew up with since infancy.

But then again, Yuuri didn’t just let his parents die. He was remorseful to the point that he almost seemed to be in pain. That wasn’t the reaction of someone who didn’t care, who just flippantly let people die so that he could play around in his palace under the sea. If Yuuri didn’t care about anything, if he had no love for or even hated this solar system’s inhabitants, he would have left Victor to rot.

He almost did leave Victor to die, but it didn’t seem malicious, just like he hadn’t had an excuse to intervene until Victor mentioned dancing. And he hasn’t even demanded that of Victor in exchange for staying here. He hasn’t demanded _anything_ of Victor. In fact, he’s given him an entire room to himself; he’s given Victor this entire palace to roam and explore at will; and plenty of food and water. He’s not even trying to cage Victor here. And yet Yuuri says that he’s a monster.

It doesn’t make sense. Yuuri doesn’t look like he’s lying, but he isn’t telling the truth either—not when there’s so much evidence that points to him caring more than anyone else Victor’s ever met in his life.

And, really, Victor just wants to see Yuuri again. He wants to say it’s to ask questions, to understand more about everyone’s character. But the brush of Yuuri’s fingers still haunts his skin, the hum of his voice echoes in Victor’s ears, and the wonderful light in his eyes bleeds through the back of Victor’s eyelids as he tries to drift off to sleep.

Victor grumbles and hugs Makkachin a little tighter as they cuddle together, making her tail thump sleepily against the mattress a few times before she drifts back off.

This is just ridiculous. It was frustrating enough for Victor’s mind to go numb every time he was faced with that stunning body, but the more Victor gets to know Yuuri, the more he craves to know. And right now it’s a curiosity, something so easily sated, so satisfying to fulfill, that Victor can’t help but wonder what will happen as he falls deeper and deeper down this hole. Because this is different than any other feeling he’s ever known, and he’s not sure he’s ready to see where it goes next.

Because despite the worry, and the fear, and the grief, Victor wants to dive deeper.

Phichit had said that Victor could put together the truth about the situation if he wanted to. Not that it would be handed to him, and not that Yuuri would be the one to tell him. That it was up to him. And before he leaves for good, while he knows the kids are still set for a few months at least without him there, he’s going to figure it out.

Because Victor will leave. He won’t abandon Minami and Yura, not when the stakes are so high. So if he’s going to take one thing from this experience, it will be the truth.

Not just about The Eclipse, or about his parents, but about Yuuri. What kind of soul hides behind someone who can think themselves so hideous when all Victor can see is beauty, despite wanting to blame everything on Yuuri?

Because it’s so much easier to blame someone—even yourself—than it is to accept that sometimes tragedies happen for no good reason.

When Victor wakes the next morning, he’s already exhausted but he wastes no time. He gets up and gets dressed with Makkachin bouncing around him, stealing pets and slowing him down more than he’d like to admit, but it’s still early when he leaves his room. He takes the familiar pathways toward the garden, a trail well worn by him.

He’s never felt like this when he comes this way, though. Normally he doesn’t feel much at all; if anything he’s thinking about his last discussion with Yuuko or strategies to finally take down Phichit in one of his ridiculous card games. But now Victor’s steps are a little less sure. His heart beats faster, and it feels like it’s rising up, pressing against his throat.

It’s ridiculous, Victor knows that it is. There’s nothing to be nervous about, he’s proven that. But still…

When he enters the greenhouse, Makka sprints ahead of him, giving a loud _boof_ that rings throughout the huge room. She heads in the exact direction that Yuuri said that he’d be.

Victor swallows and follows after her, slower and much more cautiously than Makka. And even though he tried to prepare himself, his breath still catches when he turns a corner and Yuuri comes into view.

Yuuri’s wearing warm, red robes today, the color reflecting and glimmering in his eyes as he smiles softly and pets Makka. He’s not wearing the glasses today, and his hair isn’t pushed back, instead falling in soft charcoal tufts around his face. His lips move in soft, soundless words as Makkachin leans into his touch, tail sweeping back and forth in a satisfied slowness.

Victor doesn’t know how Yuuri’s beauty affects him so deeply every time, but it does. Maybe it’s because it feels different whenever they cross paths. The first time that Victor saw Yuuri, it was a deep, primal sort of want that rang inside him, a tone that shook him to his bones. This time it’s less jarring, more of a soft settling in him as Yuuri’s gentle smile and obvious love for Makkachin soothes something in him. It makes him feel… well, something he’s never really felt before.

“Oh.” Yuuri turns those lovely eyes onto Victor, widening a bit as he takes him in. A moment stretches on while Yuuri’s mouth makes vague twitches, almost-starts at words, but he doesn’t quite get there.

And for a moment it strikes Victor that maybe Yuuri doesn’t _want_ him here. Maybe he’s been pushing Victor away because he doesn’t like having an intruder in his space. It doesn’t make much sense when Victor considers how gently Yuuri touched him just yesterday, but even the _thought_ of it sends Victor’s gut plummeting to the floor.

“You came.” Yuuri’s voice cuts straight through the confusing emotions churning inside Victor, gentle and almost awed. Not a question or a demand, just a statement. An observation.

“Yeah.” Victor clears his throat, taking a tentative step forward—and making Makka wag her tail a bit, tongue lolling out. Victor can’t help smiling at her. “You did offer, yesterday. If you aren’t comfortable with it, though…”

“No!” Yuuri’s suddenly on his feet, but then he shrinks back a little. “I mean, I am comfortable with it. I would like to take care of it. I should have known—I’d seen you outside with the hound. I thought you would be protected from simple things like that at least, but I should have known better. I can’t make things right, but I’d like to care for you how I can.”

Victor gets the sense from the sincerity in Yuuri’s voice that he’s talking about more than the sunburn. And Victor doesn’t know how he feels about that; on one hand, Yuuri’s right. He can’t bring back his parents, he can’t undo the years that Victor spent starving and worrying. On the other hand, he’s trying to do his best right now; he obviously cares and regrets deeply, with his entire being. So Victor doesn’t even know how to respond to that.

So he responds to something else.

“‘The hound?’” Victor frowns. “Doesn’t she have a proper name?”

“Ah, no.” Yuuri rubs Makka’s ears again, making her leg scratch at the stone floor a bit. “She can’t speak to you, but she can somewhat communicate with me as she’s the guardian of my sun, and she’s never liked the idea of any names I suggest.”

“Oh.” Heat spreads across the bridge of Victor’s nose. “Um, then can you apologize to her for me? I may have been calling her a name this whole time, and I didn’t realize that she’d know what I meant and might not like it. I just— I didn’t want to go around calling her ‘dog’ or anything.”

Makkachin pulls away from Yuuri and charges Victor, nearly bowling him over before attacking him with slobbery kisses that Victor can’t fight off or protest because they _tickle_ , and he can’t stop laughing long enough to do anything.

Yuuri huffs out a bit of a laugh at that. “She can understand what you say, you know. And I don’t know about you, but it seems like she likes whatever name you gave her well enough. What _did_ you name her?”

Makkachin finally relents, flopping down onto the floor and exposing her belly to him.

Victor kneels down to give her a good scratch, even as his shoulders hunch up a bit. “When I was younger, I dreamed about having a dog, and I had a small stuffed poodle that I’d carry around with me everywhere. I feel a little silly now, knowing how intelligent this good girl is, but I named her after that. Makkachin, or Makka for short.”

Yuuri’s smile softens, an ember of warmth in his eyes. “I like that.”

Makkachin gives a soft _boof,_ her tail wagging a little faster.

Yuuri laughs. “It seems that she likes it too. Right, Makkachin?”

All that Makka does in response is melt under Victor’s touch, but he thinks that’s enough of an answer. If she’s really the protector of the sun, and she’s so powerful that even a god listens to her about silly things like names, then Victor has no doubt that she could protest violently and immediately if she didn’t like the name—regardless of Victor being able to understand what she’s saying, or thinking, or however Yuuri communicates with her.

The human race hasn’t met too much alien life in their exploration of space, but out of those species that they have discovered, Victor’s learned not to assume or underestimate anything.

“So… your sunburn?”

Victor glances up from where he’s knelt to find Yuuri shifting a little, awkwardly like he’s uncomfortable. “Yes?”

“I mean. You’re here for me to treat it, right?” Yuuri reaches up toward the bridge of his nose, but hesitates when he’s almost there, and drops his hands. “We should probably, you know. Do that?”

Victor bites back a laugh. It’s not like he hasn’t seen how gods are just like humans, how Phichit _can_ lose card games, how Yuuko is a sucker for puns, how quickly Takeshi gets overwhelmed. But it’s so strange to see a person that’s developed into a massive, intimidating being in Victor’s mind act _awkward_ —even if it’s also lovely, in a way. “Yes, let’s.”

Yuuri stands up and turns again toward the plant, snapping off another thick leaf from it as Victor takes off his shirt and sets it aside. He could have come shirtless again, but Victor just wasn’t sure what he should do.

When Yuuri turns back toward Victor, he starts a bit, clutching the plant to his chest as he makes a soft noise.

“What?” Victor looks around, trying to find what startled Yuuri but finding nothing. “Are you okay?”

“I— Um. Yes, completely fine, totally fine, it’s— Everything’s fine. Let’s um. Do this. Uh, I mean. Spread the gel from the plant over your burn. Like yesterday. You know.” Yuuri’s mouth shuts with a snap as a blush blooms across his cheeks—and then Victor notices where Yuuri’s eyes keep flicking.

Victor can’t help the small smirk that spreads across his lips as Yuuri’s eyes travel across Victor’s chest. He’s not in _great_ shape yet, but right now hess in better shape than he’s been in ages, and he can’t say it doesn’t feel good for his hard work to be appreciated—by a god like Yuuri no less.

“If you like it so much, you can touch.” Victor winks at Yuuri.

To which Yuuri huffs out a breath and rolls his eyes, even if his blush stays fully intact. “I _plan_ to touch you. That’s why you came here, right? Come over here and stand in front of me. Please.”

“So commanding.” Victor shakes his head playfully and steps toward Yuuri. “Not that I mind.”

“Oh?” Yuuri raises an eyebrow at him as he takes some of the clear gel he’d spread across Victor’s skin yesterday into his palm and looks at Victor, obviously for permission.

And it’s all Victor can do to just nod in return, to both the question asked and the one inferred, because he doesn’t mind either. Victor’s lived his entire life to the whim of a fate that he thought was evil, only wanting his pain and pushing him close to his breaking point time and time again. But he doesn’t mind the choice of trusting Yuuri to touch him, to move him around as he needs or sees fit. Not when those hands are so gentle and almost… It’s almost as if Yuuri touches Victor like he _cares_ about him. Like he’s just as fascinated by Victor as Victor is with Yuuri.

So he lets Yuuri touch and explore Victor with his fingers and his palms, the cool of his skin against Victor’s soothing the hurt of his burn and calming something even deeper. Victor leans into Yuuri’s touch when he can, earning him a few entertained huffs—or maybe incredulous, but Victor prefers to think it’s the former—from Yuuri.

The silence between them is almost nice with how peaceful it is. But something stirs, jittery and unable to sit still beneath his collarbones at just the _idea_ that the god might be seeing Victor similar to how Victor sees Yuuri.

“So, no glasses today?” Victor winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. What a _boring_ conversation starter. It’s easy to tell that Victor’s out of practice with talking to anybody normal—two hormonal and extreme teenagers don’t exactly count.

“Hm?” Yuuri’s hands still for a moment and he blinks up at Victor until he shakes his head and moves around him. “I don’t wear them all the time. My vision isn’t terrible, but it isn’t great either.”

“Why don’t you wear them all the time?” Victor lets his eyes flutter close while Yuuri can’t see it as Yuuri’s hands come up to rub the back of Victor’s neck—he can’t hide the goosebumps though.

“I-I know they make me look… different.” Yuuri’s voice gets softer as he speaks.

“I suppose.” Victor purses his lips for a moment, remembering how lovely seeing Yuuri’s face not hidden by his hair was, eyes beautifully outlined by the frames of his glasses. “I think that they’re cute.”

“You think— _What_?” Yuuri squeaks, hand gripping Victor’s shoulder tightly.

“You’re cute regardless, though. Your hair looks so soft like this.” Victor can’t hold back his sigh, imagining running his hands through Yuuri’s hair—

Yuuri’s grip tightens to a painful point. “That’s not— It’s _average_. And wearing clunky glasses doesn’t exactly exude godly confidence.”

“Well, I don’t know.” Victor can’t help but grin a little. “I first met you while you were completely naked, and I would have probably fallen to my knees if I weren’t already on them.”

Yuuri makes an odd, almost choking sort of noise. “Y-you’re done. You should be fine until tomorrow—I’ll be here in the morning if you want help. I hope you have a good day.”

And Yuuri’s hands leave Victor’s skin, and his entire body screams _no_. It’s been too short a time, Yuuri’s hands had sped up when Victor started speaking too honestly, and he can’t screw this up. He can’t have Yuuri hate him, too. He needs to keep talking to him to keep seeing him because—

Because _something_ , and Victor’s not entirely sure what it is, but for the first time in so many years he’s feeling _want_ on so many levels. He wants this family and this home, but he can’t have it. But at least he can ask for more of Yuuri’s time.

Victor’s mind runs, scrambles to a topic to talk about—and lands upon a question that’s been simmering in his mind for a while, brought up to the forefront just this morning.

Victor turns around, finding Yuuri stepping away. “What about dancing?”

Yuuri freezes, back still facing Victor. “What about it?”

“You let me come here because I dance.” Victor almost takes a step after Yuuri, but hesitates. “Don’t you want to dance with me?”

Yuuri’s shoulders tense. “No. Absolutely not.”

Victor takes a step back, the iron in Yuuri’s tone unbreakable after all the softness that he’s treated Victor with. “I… Okay.” Victor clears this throat. “Then what about watching me? You wanted to do that, didn’t you? You only took me in when I offered to dance for you.”

Yuuri stays frozen for an excruciating second, before his hands fall and… they tremble? “Another time. Maybe. I need to leave, goodbye.”

And then Yuuri strides away so quickly that Victor can’t even think to protest, left only with Makkachin panting softly on the ground where she lies next to him, and a confusing whirlwind of thoughts spinning around his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I've gotta do this real quick because [hoo boy lots of stuff going on with the doggos](https://twitter.com/Kazul9/status/1316099166578388993) and it's eating up most of my time while I try and deal with that, but!
> 
> **TSBS is going to be on Hiatus!**
> 
> Toungry (The Impossible Task of Being Loved) will be posting every Saturday now, and that's Victor's perspective too! I tried to push through and keep writing this fic but it's just not where my heart is right now. I've had to do this before (both Jello and WARI I wrote a few chapters of, switched focus, then came back to it), so it is **NOT** abandoned, I just want to be able to do it justice and I can't write something of this tone and theme while 2020 is kicking the shit out of me. Hopefully, things will settle down soon and I'll slam out both the fics in no time, :D
> 
> Thank you all so, so much for reading this fic, and I'm really so sorry to disappoint! I know I've been dropping the ball a lot lately and it makes me feel like absolute garbage. Honestly just surviving this year has been hard enough. But I promise this fic will be finished. Also shout-out to Dachi and Tess for being the BEST throughout this writing process and encouraging me to stay healthy when I'm very, very bad at it. :'D

**Author's Note:**

> [Discord Server](https://discord.gg/hmvKrGp) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Kazul9) | [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/Kazul9) | [Tumblr](https://kazul9.tumblr.com/) | [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/kazul9)


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